The Chain of Love
by maxandkiz
Summary: Sammy has trouble dealing with what his dad really does for a living.


Disclaimer: Supernatural and all its characters belong to Kripke and the CW. I own nothing.

AN- I've had a few friends ask me to repost this story so I'm putting it back up. Still don't think it's a very good story but here it is.

This is for the April/May prompt at The Writer's Guild. The prompt was tag. The title comes from the song "The Chain of Love" by Clay Walker.

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John Winchester glanced down at his sleeping eight year old son and sighed. He was at a loss as to what to do with the little boy who was currently snuggled against his side. Ever since Sammy had found out what his father really did when he went off, the boy had been a clingy mess; following John wherever he went. Sammy even went so far as to sit right beside the bathroom door. And worse still he had reverted back to calling John "daddy" instead of "dad". Thinking back to last Christmas John remembered the angry glare Sammy had leveled at him as soon as he had walked through the door. But instead of Sammy going into another room to get away from his dad like he usually did, the kid had thrown himself into John's arms and held on tight.

"_Guess that should have been my first clue"_ John thought ruefully as he carded his fingers through his baby's soft chestnut hair. After having a "discussion" with Sammy about taking the journal and an even longer talk about John's job, the oldest Winchester had thought that everything was alright. Sammy had stopped clinging to him and was back to his usual energetic self.

Although in hindsight John decided that he really should have known better. Nothing was ever that easy with his boys. His first hunt had proven that. It had been a few days after that Christmas and the hunt had been a simple salt and burn in a nearby town. He'd only been gone a little over twenty four hours so he was shocked when his youngest barreled into him as soon as he walked into the motel room. Picking the trembling little boy up John had glanced questioningly at Dean before taking a seat on the closest bed. He'd rocked his baby boy until Sammy finally fell asleep. After gently placing his youngest on the bed and tucking him in, John had motioned Dean to the small kitchen. Plopping wearily down in a chair facing the beds he had looked over at Dean and asked the question that had been on his mind since he walked into the room. "What's wrong with Sammy, Dean?" Dean's answer had blown him away. John had known Sammy was still upset about John fighting the supernatural but he'd had no idea his son was terrified of losing him. Finding out that Sammy had refused to talk, eat, or even move from his spot by the window while his dad was gone had floored the stoic hunter. The idea that his baby was so terrified that he completely shut down made John feel like the worst dad in the world. Knowing he needed to reassure his youngest John had spent the next few days doing things with his boys. He'd let Sammy stay as close as he needed even letting the little boy sleep with him. And it seemed to work. After a few days, Sammy slowly started coming around. By the end of the week the kid was back to his old, adorable self.

Then another hunt came up and John left. He was only gone for two and a half days. Unfortunately that was more than enough time to undo all his hard work. John had come back to the motel to find that Sammy had once again shut down. Seeing that the coddling hadn't worked as well as he thought it had John decided to try a different tactic; tough love. John had punished Sammy for not following orders and refused to let the little boy cling to him yelling at him to suck it up. Less than twenty four hours later John couldn't stand it anymore. The tough love tactic was killing him. He'd embraced his youngest and spent the next week trying to make things up to his son. It had taken Sammy a lot longer to relax and stop clinging but he finally stopped following his dad everywhere and went back to being a normal little boy.

Or so John thought. Scooting back against the headboard of the bed John thought over the events of the previous week. He and Caleb had gone after a Raw head that was terrorizing a town a couple of hours away. It had taken longer than they thought to track the creature down and a couple of days had quickly turned into four then five. They'd just figured out the Raw head's hideout and were starting out the door when the motel phone rang. John grimaced recalling that he had almost walked out the door without answering the phone. Thank God Caleb had insisted he answer it. Hearing Jim's frantic voice with Dean hollering in the background had John rushing out the door hunt forgotten. John had jumped into the impala and barreled down the road to Jim's friend's clinic making it in record time. Sprinting into the small building and up to his oldest son and Jim John had demanded to be taken to Sammy. However he wasn't prepared for the sight that greeted him. Seeing his pale, tiny son hooked to an IV and a feeding tube shattered his heart. He'd fallen into the closest chair and wept.

That had been a week ago and although Sammy had recovered and come home, things were a long way from normal. Sammy was sticking even closer to his dad if that were possible and John had no idea what he was going to do about the situation. He couldn't quit hunting; not until he found and destroyed Mary's killer. But he also couldn't let Sammy keep going like he was. He had to find a way to help Sammy cope with the fear. Yawning John carefully scooted back down in the bed and settled next to his son. _"I'll figure it out tomorrow"_ he thought as he closed his eyes and fell asleep.

John dreamed of a three year old Dean crying and screaming every time Mary had to leave the house. Mary's leaving had never bothered Dean before but since the sudden death of his favorite babysitter, Nana, Dean had become quiet and fearful. After the first couple of tantrums, Mary had taken Dean aside. John smiled in his sleep as he recalled Mary's way of reassuring Dean. Her little talk had done wonders with the three year old.

Blinking awake John rubbed his eyes and glanced down at his youngest. He knew exactly what to do to help Sammy. He just needed to get a few things together first. "Thanks, Mary" he whispered as he closed his eyes once more.

Three days later

John quickly packed his duffle trying hard not to look at the puppy dog expression on his youngest boy's face. Throwing the last of his clothes into the bag he zipped it closed and placed it on the floor. Sitting on the edge of the bed he called Sammy over to him smiling as the little boy climbed into his lap. "Alright Sammy, I have to go help Bobby with a hunt for a few days." He began rubbing his son's back. "And I need you to be a good boy and do everything Dean tells you too and that includes eating. Okay?"

Seeing Sammy nod John frowned. "Sammy" he warned. "I can't hear your head rattle. Do you understand?"

"Yes sir" Sammy whispered burying his face in John's shirt.

"Good" John said ignoring the wetness on his shirt. "Now I know you don't like me hunting but you know I have to go, right?" John waited for Sammy's mumbled "Yes sir" before continuing. "Okay, now I need you to do something for me. I need you to watch over these for me until I get back. Can you do that for me, sport?"

Sammy stared in awe at the dog tags in his father's hand. He tentatively reached out taking the tags from his dad. "But, but these are yours. You never take them off." He muttered eyes never leaving the tags in his hands.

"That's right" John agreed. Taking the necklace from his son's hand he carefully placed it around Sammy's neck. "But I want you to hold onto it for me till I get back."

Sammy gently fingered the tags. "I'll take good care of them, dad. I promise." He vowed.

"I know you will" John said pulling his son into a hug. He kissed the top of Sam's head. "Sammy, I know you don't like it when I go hunting. And I know you worry that I won't come back. But I want you to know something. Nothing bad will ever happen. I will always come back to you and Dean. Always."

"Promise?" Sammy whispered peering up at his dad.

"I promise kiddo." John firmly stated. He quietly sat and held Sam for a little while longer. Then he gently set Sam on the bed beside him and stood. "I have to go now Sammy. You take good care of yourself and Dean for me." John said ruffling his youngest long hair. "I'll be back in a few days."

"Bye dad" Sammy mumbled giving his father another hug. He clutched the dog tags tightly as he watched John pick up his duffle and walk out of the motel room. Scooting back on the bed Sam leaned against the headboard. Glancing down at the dog tags he noticed his dad had left his night shirt on the bed. Snatching up the Stanford University football t-shirt Sammy held it up to his face smiling as the familiar scent of sweat and gun oil filled him. Sam pulled the shirt on over his own not caring that it came down to his knees.

"Nice skirt, Sammy" Dean quipped as he came into the room.

"It's a shirt, jerk." Sammy defended scowling at his older brother.

"Not like that it's not" Dean fired back with a smirk. "Tuck it in already so we can go get something to eat."

"Pizza?" Sammy asked as he struggled to tuck the enormous shirt in.

"Sure, squirt" Dean replied grinning from ear to ear. He didn't know what his dad had said to Sammy but it had obviously worked.

"Let's go, Dean! I'm hungry!" Sammy called as he ran over to the door.

Grabbing his wallet Dean hurried out the door after his brother. Things in the Winchester house were finally back to normal.

The End


End file.
